


First Night

by Mizar



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizar/pseuds/Mizar
Summary: Jin is sick of not having hot water, so Strega breaks into a hotel and sets up for the night. Subsequent figuring out of desires, lusts, and sexuality ensues.
Relationships: Sakaki Takaya/Shirato Jin
Kudos: 7





	First Night

Jin swings in through the window, dropping to the old dusty carpet and setting down his briefcase. The hotel won’t notice anyone here this late at night, and he’s up to _here_ with fighting the janky plumbing he put together for the old office space they crash in these days. Chidori has her own room, being picky and wanting some time to her lady self, but he’s not about to leave Takaya to his own devices, so they’re both here. Whatever, Jin sleeps like a rock, he doesn’t care as long as he’s not going to get killed in his sleep. He yanks off his coat and lobs it across the room onto a rickety old wooden table that wants to be a desk but can’t quite manage. The window shuts with a distant thump as he shoves into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

How long it has been since he had hot water, he doesn’t want to think about as he kicks his shoes out onto the carpet and yanks off his socks. The boiler is a bitch to fix, and he can heat small amounts for token washing up in the busted-up industrial office he calls home, so a full douse is a miracle these days. The shower takes a while to heat, so he faces the curtain and yanks off his shirt so he can’t see himself in the mirror. His distorted image reflects in the metal curtain rod anyway, showing the tattoo across his shoulderblades. 01A-057, it says, but that doesn’t exist here, it doesn’t mean anything here, all alone where no one can see him and it’s just him and the warm water at last. He steps in and hisses as it stings his naked body. He’s freezing even through the shower. 

He can’t turn the damn heater on in the bedroom, since Takaya can’t stand anything but cold with his overheated body. The suppressants fuck you up, the first thing that goes is temperature regulation, and Jin can’t stay warm while Takaya can’t stay cold, so maybe they go together at night, but no matter the weather, someone’s pissed. Jin douses his oily hair and donkey-kicks the bathroom door shut.

It swings open again just after, and Takaya sidles in before shutting it again. _Too warm in here for him,_ Jin thinks, but he’s a grown-ass man now, he can make his own decisions. Jin is just 16, and his pal here feels too incapable of judgment to be a real adult, but apparently some law somewhere says he is. He fumbles around for the tiny white soap bar before Takaya hands it to him.

“Let me in, too,” he says without waiting, and before Jin can complain about there not being enough room, Takaya slides behind him and presses himself against the cold tile wall. The sudden skin-on-skin contact makes Jin flinch, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in fear. There’s a reason he wears wrists to ankles clothes in every season, and it’s not just the drugs fucking up his body, it’s that being bare is the last thing he wants anyone else to see, let alone touch. ...Except Takaya. He’s fine. He’s not a stranger, or a threat. He’s okay. More like a part of himself than someone else.

The water is dusky brown with pipe rust, and Jin snatches up a cloth and scrubs himself over and over until it feels like he’s going to take his skin off now that the layers of Iwatodai grime and Dark Hour ectoplasmic crap are gone. When he turns around to rinse off his back, Takaya is watching him, still pushed back against the wall, dusty trails down his bony chest as little water drops run down.

“For God’s sake,” Jin mutters, slapping the soap against him, “here. Clean up.”

Takaya nods and takes the soap, but his knees and shoulders are tight and creaky today, and as he curls about to try to get his tall and spindly body covered, they grind and complain enough that he bites his lip. Jin rinses out the washcloth and takes the soap back, lathers it, and pushes him roughly back against the wall.

“Still that fucking bad?” He scrapes at the mess as if he’s peeling paint off a wall, and Takaya hisses in half-consent. Just the sight of how bad the skinny body has gotten drives him into a seething boil. Every rib stands out on Takaya’s sides, and what was once a flat stomach has turned concave, and it’s all they can both do just to keep food in him. Half the time he’s drying up from the drugs burning him inside-out; the rest is Hypnos telling him someone’s going to poison or choke him with it or scaring him into throwing up. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Jin looks better, at least he likes to think he does, but all that means is Moros is killing him with his mind, not his body.

“I’m sorry,” Takaya mumbles, and he rests a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “It’s too warm. It makes me stiff and shaky.”

“Screw it. Here.” He slams a hand on the faucet. The water goes ice cold.

Takaya lets out a sigh of relief, but Jin’s body is screaming murder as he shivers. Long spider-hands snag his hips and spin him about, switching their places, letting Takaya block the flow. At least it’s now just kind of cold, not damned cold, and Jin sets his jaw and takes it as he gets back to work.

“You could’ve just fucking waited.” He yanks the bony body in a half-twist to rinse off and sets to work on Takaya’s back. “Jeez. Didn’t have to heat to death in here.”

“I wanted to be with you.”

He can’t help but half-smile at that. Takaya has said that kind of thing before, once in a while, when they’re alone and it has been a long time since the last remark. The way his eyes get then makes Jin shiver, and he can’t quite figure why, but he’s not sure he minds. Now, at least, he can have those reactions without that yellow gaze on him. Under his hands, the now-clean white skin feels soft and delicate, and his cheeks flush warm.

Takaya likes him, and not in the way he always has, _likes_ him in that kind of way he knows people call it. Wants him. Jin has been on the internet enough to know how it all works, and of course he’s jacked himself off before, but it all seems kind of pointless to do, and most of the time he’s too fucked up with Moros to think about sex. 

It’s not easy with two guys anyway, right, and does he want that anyway? It’s hard to say, since he only has two friends and the girl is solidly Not Interested. They tried once, fumbled at kissing, until Chidori got bored and Jin got embarrassed and that was that. Fuck if he’s showing himself to anyone else, especially with that tattoo, which he got _expressly_ so that _he didn’t do this._ No taking his shirt off around anyone. People would Ask Questions, and that would be Awful, so it was his way of telling himself not to get close to strangers.

Takaya moves closer to him, turning about to face him, and before he can put the cloth down the spindly arms are around him and long fingers are stroking through his hair and he feels a shock race up and down his entire body as he sucks in a deep breath to steady himself. Heat is boiling off Takaya’s ghostly skin, but some of the warmth he feels is coming from his own body waking up to tell him it’s interested regardless of how ready he is.

He stammers something useless, and he wants to slap himself at his own reluctance. They’re both _dying._ Takaya’s face is turning skeletal, his cheeks drawing in, his eyes flickering from deep in their sockets. Just...just go with it. Do what feels good. See what happens. Take a fucking chance. Their whole lives are just a chance anyway. He grabs Takaya by the head and yanks him down and kisses him.

It’s a blur from there, he doesn’t know what to do, but the pale lips are soft and he doesn’t want to pull away so he breathes through his nose and lets Takaya slip his tongue into his mouth and then he’s back against the cold tile wall, breathless. His teeth might be chattering, who can tell? The bottom drops out of his stomach as he realizes that he just _did_ that. He’s in free fall, terrified and thrilled all at once. The hum in his ears is probably his heart going at Mach 3.

“You’re beautiful,” Takaya rasps, as if he can’t take another breath. His cheeks are flushed pink despite the cold water. 

“You’re a mess.”

“Yes, but I’m _your_ mess.”

“We...I...I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t _care_.” The wolfish eyes burn into him, and he lets Takaya pull him up and kiss him again. This time, he gets his wits together and kisses back, sour tongue and ketone breath be damned, they both have that weird acetone smell these days, it’s from not having enough food. They’re burning through fat faster than they can put anything on. It’s uncomfortable to have the ribs pressed to his chest, but he’s probably just as rough on Takaya, so he ignores it all and thinks about the electric feeling of lips and tongue on his mouth.

The cold settles into Jin’s core, and his goosebumps and shivers turn into shuddering and trembling. He doesn’t want to come up for air just yet, but if he doesn’t, his body temperature will drop, and that’s a miserable sleepless experience. Stumbling out of the shower, he pulls Takaya with him.

“Got to get in bed,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t let go of the spidery hand. “Come with me.”

“I’ll be there in a minute. I still need to wash out my hair.”

“Soon,” Jin snaps, but it’s a desperate snap, not an angry one. He lets his eyes linger as he shuffles out of the bathroom, grabs a towel, and rubs himself dry. It’s got him, it’s bit him, the bug bit him and now he can’t think of anything else but feeling those lips again. Normally, when he gets horny, he just thinks about the sensation enough to get himself off with some work, but now he wants to draw it all out, and he’s not thinking about himself, it’s something else entirely. Not just the physical want, but the need for contact, for someone to tangle their arms around him and hold him until the world fades away for the night.

It’s an alien sensation, like something from a dream. People are idiots, and those that aren’t, are cruel. Letting someone touch you is like letting them put a gun to your head. Still, now, he would let Takaya take his .50 Magnum and jam it straight down his throat and hold his finger on the trigger, without a single second of fear. So what’s letting the man have his body?

He dives under the worn-out blankets, drawing his knees up to his chest and shivering. When Takaya crawls in beside him, his skin is already fever-hot again, and Jin hunkers down between his arms. Usually Jin keeps at least his underwear on while they’re huddled together, but now it would feel wrong, another point of separation, and he pushes as much of himself against the lithe body as he can. He burns with embarrassment at how hard his cock is, how it’s grinding against Takaya’s leg, but to be fair to himself he’s noticed the opposite is true as well, and he doesn’t mind so much...well, at all.

Long hands stroke his back, bony but still warm, and spread over the numbers across his shoulders as if trying to cover them. Thin lips find their way to his neck, nipping and nibbling, and he cranes his head back even as he flinches with each bite. He slides a leg between Takaya’s, giving him a convenient ridge to grind his hips along. A sticky smear drips onto his thigh. Ugh, it’s so _slimy_ , but they’ll shower again later.

“Careful,” he mumbles as teeth clip at his skin. In return, Takaya bites down harder, Jin’s skin aching until finally it parts in a tear that flashes bright through his mind. Warmth trickles over his neck, and a soft tongue licks it away. “What, you like that?”

Takaya mumbles agreement, moving to nip at Jin’s chest, his breath faster now. With shivering hands, Jin explores the near-exposed skeleton, palms tracing tall shoulderblades and ridged sides and the nubs of a long spine. All those bones moving so visibly make him squeeze his eyes shut, but the feeling is still there, the shifting and creaking of joints and ligaments all barely held together. He bites his lip and tries not to let it distract him.

“What’s wrong?”

Jin clears his throat and pats the tangled white hair. “Nothing. I’m okay.” He kisses the sunken face, letting his own lips roam, and the smell of fresh, clean skin fills his nose.

He yelps and snaps to attention when a hand grabs his cock, and both of them freeze. It’s good, it’s _really_ good, but something unpredictable moving down there just isn’t normal, and he has Takaya by the wrist before he thinks about whether he wants to just say _keep going._ The yellow eyes peek up at him inquisitively, and one finger at a time, Jin pulls his hand away.

“That...yeah...you’re fine.” He shrinks away, but at the same time, he pushes his hips against Takaya’s hand and shudders at the heat flaring up in his body. “Do that.”

It’s weirdly obvious as he strokes that Takaya’s hands are strong for how dried-up they look; his grip has the feel of holding back, and for a few seconds Jin is surprised that someone who can wrangle that huge gun can be this soft with his touch. His limbs unstringing, he sprawls as Takaya rolls him onto his back and slides a palm down his chest. Something warm slips over the head of his cock, and his breath tangles up in his throat as he gasps and moans at once.

“What’re you…” Jin cranes his head and sees nothing but pale hair, but the flesh around him is warm and wet, and he’s seen all this before, it’s obvious what’s going on, but this is something that _minions_ do. Subordinates. This isn’t right, not someone like Takaya doing _this_ , and he tries to roll away.

“Lie still,” his master mumbles, and Jin makes an ambiguous protest through his shallow breath.

“Hey, this--this isn’t your job. C’mon. Stop that.”

Dragging himself away, Takaya glances up through his bangs. “Why? Does it hurt?”

“No, I just…” Jin bites his lip. “It’s not like you.”

“I want us to be closer. I want you to be a part of me.”

“I...yeah, I want that, too, but we’re doing it the wrong way.” He sits up and tries to ignore the wet sheen between his legs. Why is it so easy to make a joke about sex but not easy to talk about it? He coughs a moment and clears his throat to buy himself a few precious seconds. “You don’t suck someone off unless you’re, you know, beneath them.”

“I can do that.” Jin can’t tell if his utterly sincere look is real or mocking as he turns to lie on his back and makes a _here_ gesture with a lazy hand.

“Not like that!”

“Then like what?”

“I mean,” Jin covers his face and sighs roughly, “You’re the leader here. You don’t do that to me.”

“Why not?”

Fuck, he sounds like a dumb kid now. Why? Why all the things? But Jin can’t _answer_ why, and it bothers him. Because, is the answer. Just _because._ Because that’s _how it is._ Except why is it how it is? Now he’s in a tangle in his head, and he’s ready to throw his hands up in the air and just say _whatever._ And surely that’s Takaya’s _point._

“I’ll do it to you, then.”

“I was enjoying it.”

That’s surprising enough to get a sudden, “Really?” from him. Takaya doesn’t answer, but instead smiles and takes him by the arm, leading him down onto his back again. This time, he follows along more deliberately, opening his legs for Takaya to lie comfortably between them. Long hair tickles along the inside of his each leg, and a hand tightens around his cock and holds it up so a wet tongue can trace the edge of the head.

His heart snaps into a faster pace with a jarring spurt of adrenaline, and Jin writhes in place and grabs a pillow to hold over his head. When he gets himself off, he’s quiet, but his voice keeps threatening to come out now that someone else is doing the work, and he can’t get them caught. The shower is background noise, relatively unobtrusive, but someone yelling will draw attention, and as wet heat slides further down his length, he bites into the ratty old pillowcase and whimpers.

As his body tenses and tightens, he shivers in pleasure but also in fear, and the familiar memories well up in his mind: battle rush, fleeing danger, Moros’ huge claw creeping around his ribs, all the things that _usually_ set his heart racing. This is different, but it’s also the same, the anticipation of _something_ impending, something pulling at his body, the near-painful impatience mixed up with dread, and the heat is draining out of him now as old memories take over. Takaya can tell, clearly, and he raises his head and guides the pillow away from Jin’s face. Only then does Jin even realize he’s crying.

“Ah...I didn’t mean to hurt you.” With a somber glance away, Takaya lies down beside him and pulls the blankets up around them both.

“No, wait...I...I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t -- dammit -- I’m okay...” He turns away and draws his knees up to his chest and swears under his breath at his stupid fucking body that doesn’t want to cooperate anymore because of stupid fucking things that happened a while ago. It’s not even relevant now. It’s not anything specific, definitely not anything sexual, just dumb memories of _existence._ “I just, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to feel anything good. Okay?”

“I doubt that,” Takaya replies, but he doesn’t move any closer. “If it feels better, I’ll let you do what you wish to me.”

“That’s not it.” Jin raises his head and smacks it down on the pillow in frustration. “It’s just that, it feels weird, it’s too fast and too much. I like it. I really do. It’s just a lot.”

“I can go slower.”

“Maybe...yeah. Maybe that would help. I want you, I know I want you, and I don’t want fucking _life_ getting all in the way.” He throws himself onto his other side and grabs Takaya by the shoulder and makes an irritated sad noise through his nose. “Can...we just make out again or whatever?”

There isn’t even a response before their lips touch again, and Jin twists a little so his hips can’t touch anything relevant, and he wraps his arms around the wide ribs and concentrates on the softness against his face and tries not to think about how his heart is still racing. It’s a good racing. He can let it go, let it happen. Just think about the fun things, think about the warm breath on his skin and the little gasps he can’t help but make as their tongues slide along each other. Even the flinches from a dozen little wounds on his neck feels good, feels like someone cares, like someone wants him. He can handle some blood, hell, it’s a sign he’s still alive in this degrading body. Takaya’s mouth tastes a little metallic, and he leans into that, licks up the traces of his own blood and lets his body relax as much as it can and pool up in the long arms’ hold.

“Move down a little,” he mumbles, and the lips slide to his chest and collarbones, less frantic now, but trembling with unsaid need that slips out in the harsh puffs of breath and muted words he can’t understand. He’s hard again, the scratchy sheets rough on his shaft, but he crosses his ankles and focuses on how good the kisses feel and tries to slow down his instincts. Something metallic and shrill grinds in the back of his thoughts, and a familiar deep chill shoots down his spine, so he presses himself closer to the warmth around him and ducks his head into the white hair.

“I see him,” Takaya mumbles, and one spindly hand wraps around the back of Jin’s head and strokes his hair. “I know.”

“You can...you can do more.” Maybe if he pushes forward, he’ll shove Moros back. Twisting to the side, he exposes himself again, and his fingers tighten on Takaya’s shoulders as the fear-chill spreads out into his limbs. 

It’s not bad enough yet to take more pills, and they have to ration those anyway, so he needs to stretch this good phase as long as he can. The clarity wasn’t going to last forever, and now he’s got a certain focus, so he can push away the sound of rattling steel as a hand trails down his flank and over the mostly-shed hair on his groin. Only one of them really got fuzzy as they grew, and it wasn’t him, the crap nutrition and stress made all his fall out the second it tried to show up. For all his bare-bones body, Takaya at least had wispy blonde hair here and there, but Jin’s blue barely showed up at all. He kind of liked it that way, though, the way he felt a little less normally human. If he was going to be separate, may as well look the part. The fingers on his bare sensitive skin tingle as they avoid his cock but trail around the sides of his legs and up over his hips.

“You feel so cold.” Takaya hooks an ankle around his and tangles their legs together. “I wish I could keep you warm.”

“You can for a little while.” Jin reaches down to busy himself with whatever is on the other side -- he hasn’t really touched Takaya like that, and the question of what it’s like keeps him steadied as the pad of a finger runs down the length of him. Gently, he rests his hand between the bony legs, then curls his fingers around the flushed-pink cock, letting it weigh in his palm. It’s hard to say who is bigger, not that it matters, but Takaya being so thin doesn’t hurt his size at all. The body against him shudders as he slides his hand up and down, working it until it drips like he would himself, and every little twitch and stifled gasp stokes the warmth inside him again.

“Let’s trade,” Takaya says, glancing up at him with a familiar spark in his eyes, the one that says _I have an idea_. “I’ll turn around?”

Oh, the sixty-nine thing. Right. He’s seen this before in porn, doesn’t look difficult or anything. Jin mumbles something like _sure_ and keeps his hand in place as the body he’s holding onto turns about and faces toward the foot of the bed. And now what?

Well, what is fairly obvious, but _how_ is really the question. Takaya seems to have figured it out fine, but...well, could it be that complicated? Maybe not. He offers a brief lick, and when Takaya doesn’t object, slips the head into his mouth. It takes up more space than he imagined at first, and he’s worried he’ll graze it with his teeth, so he lets his jaw hang open and closes his lips around the base of the head and gently sucks on it. A muffled groan and a push of the pale hips tells him this is at least in the right direction, so he keeps a steady pace and explores with his tongue. It tastes a little strange, and every so often a trickle of clear liquid drips into his mouth, but it doesn’t bother him enough to quit. Warm flesh wraps around his cock again in return, and instead of thinking about his reactions, he focuses on the task at hand and lets his body do what it does.

He comes without warning, and he tries to pull away and finish on the sheets, but it’s far too late now. When he moves away to apologize, a flailing hand whacks at the blankets, and he dives down and pushes away his burning humiliation and instead keeps up his own work. In what he hopes is some kind of equal treatment, he doesn’t move when Takaya finishes, letting it all drip out salty and sticky in his mouth before he swallows it. The residual slimy feeling in his throat makes him wrinkle his nose, but it’s the least he can do after that surprise.

“Did you like it?”

He glances down as Takaya crawls out from under the blankets and lies down face to face with him again. “That was better, doing it to you at the same time. What about you, was it good?”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he mutters, and Jin buries his head in his arms with an irritated howl.

“I didn’t mean it!”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Yeah, but...well...dammit,” Jin offers with a sigh. He kicks the blankets away and bumbles toward the shower. “Don’t want to sleep sweaty,” is the explanation from the door before he shuts it and turns on the water again, as hot as it gets, somehow hotter than his cheeks after all that mess. Still, it was good. He would do that again. Maybe at some point he could talk himself up to it again.

**Author's Note:**

> While I am aware that this is *technically* "underage," I figure the underage tag is for stories where the point is that someone is very young. It's anime. High schoolers being with each other really don't count for that.
> 
> Also, I was inspired by the voice style of Laylah's "The Drugs Like Me," so I figured I'd give it a go.


End file.
